


Dance to It

by celli



Category: Alias
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-15
Updated: 2003-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weiss is waffling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance to It

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Through 3.3, "Reunion."
> 
> Acknowledgements: Thanks to Jayne for the beta and Shelley for the title. Lyrics from "Not Myself" by John Mayer.
> 
> This is for Rach on her birthday (or thereabouts). By special request. *g*

"More pancakes?" Sydney asked.

"Man...I'm waffling here, Sydney, I really am." She giggled, as planned. "But you're feeding me too well these days. If I'm not careful, I'll gain back all the weight I just lost, and--"

"I know, I know, dieting makes you cranky." She made a show of taking my plate away. "And we don't want a cranky Weiss, do we?"

"I'm personally opposed to it."

She grinned and took another bite of her own pancakes.

These pre-work banquets became a habit shortly after Sydney moved in. I'm not sure when she stopped inviting me the night before and when I just started showing up. She told me once that she got bored eating alone and that if I wasn't there, she'd start talking to the Mrs. Butterworth bottle. I'm not sure she was kidding. So she'd cook, we'd eat, and then I'd give her a ride to work. Do you know how hard it is to get your driver's license back when the DMV thinks you're dead?

While I did the dishes (Mama Weiss raised a boy with manners, thank you), Sydney wandered into the living room. I looked over and saw her holding the CD Marshall had made for her. "Have you listened to that yet?"

"I haven't had the nerve. Does he really think boybands will bring my memory back?"

"This is Marshall. He could be in a boyband and it wouldn't surprise me."

She looked over at me.

"Okay, it would. But you know what I mean. Here, let me see it." I took the CD case carefully between two soapy fingers. "Oh, here, play track 15."

"John Mayer? He sounds familiar."

"Yeah, he's from before." I tuned in to the song enough to catch the lyrics and winced. _I lose my worried mind?_ Marshall, what were you thinking? You couldn't have picked a slightly less appropriate song? "He's really big now."

"Cool." She tapped her fingers on the stereo. "It's got a good beat, and you can dance to it. I give it a 78."

I burst out laughing, moved to cover my mouth, and inhaled some bubbles. "Stop snickering and give me a towel, Bristow," I said between coughs.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I waved Syd toward it and groped for a towel myself.

"Dad!"

"Good morning, Sydney. I thought you might want a ride to work." He caught sight of me as he stepped inside. "Weiss."

"Hey, Mr. Bristow." I went back to coughing.

"Is he all right?" Jack asked Sydney.

"He just got a little enthusiastic about this song, that's all."

If it had been anyone but Jack Bristow, I would have sworn a smile was tugging at his lips. "Well, it is a nice song, I suppose."

"You can dance to it, too," I said. Yay, breathing was beginning to function again.

"Is that so?" And to my jaw-dropping, eye-popping shock--and from the look on her face, Sydney's as well--Jack took his daughter's hand and swung her into a perfect waltz.

Okay, I probably should have looked away. But damned if I was going to.

As I watched, Sydney sent her father a look that absolutely radiated with happiness, and then tucked her head under his chin. He smiled--no really--and kept dancing.

I remembered suddenly a conversation I'd had with Lauren back when she started dating Mike. Just like Sydney asked me about Lauren when she first came back, Lauren had come to me and asked about Sydney. Well, who else could she talk to?

"We used to joke that except for the bad guys, her life was Everybody Loves Sydney," I'd said. "Okay, bad guys and authority figures. She had issues with Kendall."

"So I gathered," Lauren said in that faux-reserved way she has. "Did that extend to her father, too? I can't quite get a handle on Mr. Bristow." This was before he got himself tossed in solitary-for-life, of course.

"No, Jack loved her. Probably more than anyone. He just has the social skills of a grizzly bear. A really cranky grizzly bear."

"Perfect Sydney," Lauren said, and I completely understood the bitterness in her tone.

"No, not perfect. Just...just Sydney. When I first met her, it was kind of off-putting. At the time, she had this tragic, almost mythic air about her. The love of her life was dead. She'd been duped by the bad guys. And she was a scarily good spy. She was larger than life, you know? And that was uncomfortable. But she was also really goofy and really nice and she loved her life outside the CIA. She was a good friend, Lauren. She was--"

"--just Sydney," Lauren finished, and I had to smile.

Exactly.

The song ended, but the Bristows stayed where they were. I left them talking to each other and slipped out of the house.

It would be good for them to spend some time together. Maybe Jack could give her a ride to work more often; she'd like that. She could feed him breakfast, too.

I should cut back on the pancakes anyway. The lurch in my stomach was obviously from too much buttermilk, not from the way Sydney had looked when her father danced with her for possibly the first time ever.

I wasn't signing up for another season of Everybody Loves Sydney. I wasn't.

I turned on the radio. Guess who was playing?

"This is all your fault, John," I said out loud. "I'm obviously the one losing my worried mind now. Thanks _so_ much."


End file.
